


Disconnected

by daftalchemist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, I don't really know how to tag this thing, M/M, angel!cas - Freeform, it's porn idk, just read it, the people who have beta'd it think it's hot, vessel disconnect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally finds the alcohol-induced courage to take his relationship with Cas to the next level</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disconnected

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by f1rstperson and antique-rain (from tumblr). THANKS YOU GUYS.
> 
> Wrote this thing like a month ago, and it's finally getting to see the light of day

The fight starts like it always does. An argument about killing a monster, or not killing it, or the way in which it was killed, or other things that may have gotten killed in the process; who the hell knows? The kind of fight that goes from whatever triggers it to ten years of emotional baggage in a heartbeat, kicking any chance of fixing the immediate problem to the curb. The fight ends like it always does too: Sam leaving to make it on his own for a while. Honestly, Dean shouldn't even be upset by it. If this fight is anything like the others, he'll see Sam again in a few days, maybe a week or so tops. But he's getting sick of the fighting, wishes they could stop driving each other away all the time, as though that's even possible. They're just two broken people abrading each others sanity, rough edges tearing away at whatever glue is holding this whole adventure together. Spending a couple angry weeks apart is probably the best thing they can do for each other.

Maybe it's just because shit's been hitting the fan more frequently lately, but the spat takes its toll on Dean, and not even downing a few beers seems to help. He's not completely alone, at least, being left with Cas and all. In a way, it's fortunate this latest spat happened after Castiel had decided to help with hunting full-time, but at the same time it makes the work a hell of a lot harder. His questionable people skills may have charmed the pants off of Dean, but no one else they talk to seems as eager to drop trou. Not that there had even been a chance for them to get that intimate yet, what with Cas seeming completely uninterested and all. Yet another item on the list of total bullshit piling up in Dean's life.

Cas doesn't seem to understand that Dean is upset about Sam leaving despite knowing that he'll be seeing his brother again soon enough. It's just the last ingredient in a recipe for one-sided cattiness over the frustration of not getting the kind of comfort and attention that Dean's looking but refusing to ask for.

Their feelings for each other had stopped being an awkwardly ignored secret for some time now, but things still didn't seem to be progressing the way they should for how long they'd been together, and it had nothing to do with Dean's stubbornness, for once. It was all Cas. It wasn't that the angel didn't love him—Dean knew that he did—he just didn't seem to have an interest in the physical stuff. It wasn't a problem at first. Dean told Cas he was in it for more than just pawing at each other when they could, but that hadn't lasted long, and it was becoming more and more of a problem as time went by. Dean needed the contact, and he needed Cas to not only understand why he wanted it, but to want it as well.

It's this perfect storm of booze, bullshit, and emotional pigheadedness that gets Dean to thinking he should try to convince Cas to let Dean fuck him.

“Cas?” he calls out, not knowing exactly where the angel has gotten to, just knowing that he's not in the motel room. A puff of air against Dean's cheek lets him know Cas has appeared, and he looks over and finds Cas sitting next to him, smiling softly. It's something Castiel has been schooling himself to do; trying to remember to show he is pleased to see Dean rather than remaining neutral because it's important to humans to see the person they love is happy to see them.

A quick glance tells Castiel that Dean is having difficulty dealing with Sam's absence again. He doesn't understand why; time apart always seems to fix whatever problems they have that causes them to split in the first place. But he knows he should be supportive, no matter how irrational he finds the situation to be, so he places a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiles a little wider as he says, “Dean?”

Dean smiles as he places a hand on Cas' cheek, rubbing his thumb against the stubble. It's a tender display, but Castiel can see that Dean's expression is sorrowful and understands that he just needs him to be close right now. It's not surprising when he finds himself pulled into a kiss, the taste of alcohol lingering on Dean's lips. It's soft and it's warm, and Castiel puts on a good show of enjoying it, but in truth he doesn't feel the same sensations from it as Dean so obviously does. He doesn't talk about it, but Castiel is certain somewhere deep inside Dean knows that he just doesn't have that sort of connection with his vessel; that he can't experience the full effect of being touched the way Dean does.

Castiel does like the kiss though. He parts his lips immediately, knowing that Dean wants to press his tongue into his mouth, and Cas gladly reciprocates, enjoying how much pleasure he derives from it, but he is not nearly as urgent in his actions as Dean is as he moves his hand from Cas' cheek to grip the back of his neck, using his free hand to push the angel's coat off his shoulders. Cas helps, shrugging out of the coat and dumping it into a messy puddle on the floor. The next thing he knows, Dean has a grip on his tie and is using it to pull him closer, much closer. So close that he has to straddle Dean's lap just to follow where he is being lead. It's an awkward position, and Castiel braces his hands on Dean's shoulders before settling his weight against Dean, who moans appreciatively as Cas settles against the bulge in his pants, pressing his tongue deeper into the angel's mouth.

It's different, more aggressive than usual. Dean's hands set to worrying at his tie, trying to get it loose but fumbling with it in his urgency to get it off. Castiel rests his hands on Dean's, gently moving them out of the way so he can loosen the tie himself, only to find that Dean has moved down to the buttons on his shirt and is undoing them one by one. This is entirely different, like nothing they've ever done before. Castiel drops the loosened tie and pushes Dean back, breaking their lip lock, taking note of the look of hurt and guilt in Dean's eyes.

“Dean...” Cas begins, but before he can finish the thought, Dean has buried his face in Cas' shoulder.

“I know,” he groans, voice muffled against Cas' shirt. “I just...I just need this, Cas. I need you to let me do this.”

“I understand,” Castiel replies, albeit hesitantly. He's known this day would come, though he didn't know what to expect from it. He just knows he'll let Dean take what he needs, has always known he would do that when the time came.

The guilt in Dean's expression worsens as he sits upright and looks up at Cas, noticing that he's hesitant, or at least not eager about what's going to happen. Castiel can tell Dean is just moments away from sighing, scrubbing a hand through his hair, asking Cas to get off his lap, and going off to sulk in a corner with another beer. Instead of letting that happen, Castiel undoes the rest of the buttons on his shirt, opens it up to show a bit of skin. It makes him feel...uncomfortable. He doesn't know if it's due to some sense of modesty, or because he's blundering into seriously unfamiliar territory, but he's certain he's feeling some sort of tightening in his chest and stomach. It's unexpected given how distant the connection with his vessel generally is, and he swallows hard, waiting for Dean to make a move because he can't stop worrying over the sensations he's feeling long enough to figure out what he should do next.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to. Undoing his shirt is all it takes to entice Dean to continue, though the look of guilt doesn't leave. Castiel would have commented on how such an expression probably isn't the best way to entice a lover, but thinks better of it. It's likely he isn't the only person feeling uncomfortable about the situation, and there's no need to say anything that could make it worse. Dean places his hands on Cas' chest, calloused fingertips gently pushing the shirt off his body. It makes Castiel shiver ever so slightly, maybe in a reaction that could be considered ticklish, or due to having his skin exposed to the air, but he finds himself wishing that it's in reaction to Dean's touch, if for no other reason than it would please Dean. Cas shrugs out of his shirt as Dean pulls the garment from his arms, taking advantage of the close proximity of their faces by drawing Cas' lower lip into his mouth and nibbling at it before letting it go again, and Castiel is surprised to hear a soft groan escape his lips, perhaps in response to the pain.

The sound seems to excite Dean though, most likely making him think that Cas is warming up to the idea of sex. He sets to biting along Cas' jaw and neck, chasing each touch of pain with a gentle kiss. Castiel is sure it'll leave marks on his vessel, and he bites his lip as he wishes he could experience the sensation fully. He's certain he would enjoy it if he could only feel it as well as he should, as well as another human would. He might also know how best to reciprocate if he could succumb to the heat and flow of the moment.

Castiel decides to take a chance and presses his palm against the bulge in Dean's pants, earning him a throaty groan and an almost savage bite just above his collarbone. He feels it, almost completely, and sucks a deep breath through his teeth in response, thankful when Dean's tongue presses against the mark, sucking gently to dull the pain.

“Sorry,” he mumbles against Cas' skin, and Cas gives Dean's dick an appreciative squeeze in response. The whine that escapes Dean's throat is oddly adorable given how obscene it sounds.

“Fuck, Cas,” he growls as he begrudgingly pushes the angel away. “You need to get your pants off.”

Castiel pauses for just a moment, taken aback by how quickly everything is progressing, but it's long enough for the passion in Dean's eyes to begin to extinguish, and Cas knows the guilt is creeping back in again.

“Yes, of course,” Castiel responds as he unfastens his slacks slowly, holding eye contact with Dean and hoping the display comes across as seductive rather than hesitant. Dean's tongue darting between his lips seems like a reasonable indication that he's enjoying it. But pulling down a zipper is as far as Castiel can remove his pants while still perched on Dean's lap, and he reluctantly pushes himself away as he stands and lets his slacks fall to the floor, stepping out of the pile slowly, feeling somewhat more uncomfortable now that he's completely naked. Well, except for his tie, which Dean takes hold of and leads Cas towards him again, slowly, studying every curve and angle of the angel's body.

The room feels colder, but Castiel is certain it isn't the lack of clothes. He can see the blush on his vessel, indicating an increase in temperature, and it's accompanied by a heightened response to physical sensations. It's uncomfortable like he wants to fly off to somewhere remote—preferably somewhere with clothes—but it also makes him want to get closer to Dean, see if it can help him feel the things Dean wants him to feel.

Cas is kneeling on the bed again in a moment, straddling Dean's lap as Dean ghosts his free hand over Cas' body, unsure if he's allowed to touch. His vessel isn't showing terribly obvious signs of arousal, as would be expected by this point, and it's obvious Dean is a little disappointed, despite how much he's enjoying the view. Castiel takes the lapse in Dean's aggressiveness as a chance to remove some of Dean's clothes, which is blessedly few for once. Even if Castiel was to be in the mood as much as Dean is, he imagines anyone would get bored having to remove two jackets, a flannel, and a t-shirt before reaching anything that could be found interesting.

Castiel experiments with kissing Dean's neck, pressing his tongue against the skin before sucking gently, as he pushes his hands beneath the olive drab jacket and works it off Dean's shoulders, Dean dropping his hold on Cas' tie as he moans softly against the touch and wriggles his arms out of his sleeves. The henley Dean's wearing underneath clings to his skin, clearly as a result of his increased heart rate and body temperature. It looks...good, but not in the way that Dean usually looks good. It looks better somehow, and Castiel finds himself feeling a little...excited about it. A soft tremor fills his core, and he's running his hands up Dean's neck to rest at his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss, not surprised by the startled grunt Dean makes against his lips. The proximity has Cas' half-erect dick rubbing against Dean's shirt, and the sensation fires off little shock waves in his gut and in the back of his skull as he whines softly into Dean's mouth, unsure of what the growing tension in his groin means, or why it's accompanied with the slightest hint of pain, but convinces himself it must be fine because Dean wouldn't let it happen otherwise.

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean's neck, settling his weight against the man and rubbing his hips lightly against his shirt, melting into his mouth as Dean runs his tongue along the roof of Cas' mouth, his hands wandering down Cas' back and ending with a firm grip on his ass. Castiel bucks into him involuntarily, and it shocks him out of the kiss, not realizing how much he's losing a grip on his vessel's reactions until just then. Dean's hands are pressing against Cas' cheeks a second later, rubbing his thumbs against the angel's stubbled cheeks and grounding him in the sensation of calloused hands and gentle words.

“Cas,” he says, a little more urgent, a little more guilty, eyes piercing into Castiel's, “are you sure you're okay with this?”

He's not sure that he is. He wants to be okay, but it feels like his vessel is sinking deep into the heat of the moment, leaving his angelic spirit to watch from afar, trying desperately to connect with his physical self and failing miserably. He doesn't say any of this though, just takes deep breaths, trying to refocus on Dean, on this moment, and on somehow finding a way to let go and get lost in his touch. But Castiel can tell that Dean has reached his limit, that he can't keep pushing Cas to do something that he obviously doesn't want to, and the look of remorse on his face is so heart-wrenching that Castiel is overwhelmed with a frantic need to push through this and keep his interest.

“No,” he says, and it sounds like a growl as he fists his hands into the hem of Dean's shirt and damn near tears it off his body, practically lunging to press his tongue into Dean's mouth before he has a chance to tell him to stop, and topples Dean back against the mattress in the process.

Dean doesn't immediately reciprocate, too busy being stunned and unsure of what's running through Cas' mind to decide what he should do next, but he can only resist a gorgeous angel kissing him deeply and grinding against him wantonly for so long before wrapping his arms around Cas, drawing him closer, running a hand down his spine to settle in the cleft of his ass, and if the shudder and groan that brings out of Cas isn't based as much in pleasure as Dean chooses to believe it is...well, he's just not even going to think about that because that will make him feel too much like the soul-sucking jackasses he puts down on a regular basis.

Dean loves the feel of Cas' skin pressed against his own, his tongue twined around his own, and, frankly, he even likes the feeling of running a finger around Cas' entrance and the tiny shivers Cas makes against his body, but he's been running somewhere between devastating need and soul-crushing shame for a good while now, and he's pretty sure he's going he's going to pass out from an aching dick and the emotional whiplash Cas has been giving him if they don't get on to the main event. So as much as it pains him to break the excellent kiss he's sharing with the person he's been wanting to kiss like this for what's felt like an eternity, he fists a hand into Cas' disheveled locks and pulls him up for air. Cas pants softly as he stares down at Dean, head pulled off to the right and laying bare the stretch of his neck, and the thought of pressing his lips to that skin and marking it up is enough to make Dean's cock twitch, but he manages to stay focused on the goal.

“You need to get supplies,” he says, and Cas gives him a puzzled look.

“But...I'm naked,” Castiel responds, and Dean stares at him blankly for a moment before realization hits him and he succumbs to a brief fit of laughter.

“No, you don't have to teleport to get the supplies,” he explains, bringing Cas close enough to plant a chaste kiss on his lips because Dean can't keep himself from showing appreciation for how adorable Cas is, no matter how important the goal is. “It's just in the duffel bag on the floor.”

Castiel's hair is still firmly in Dean's grasp, but he can see over the edge of the bed to where Dean had dropped his bag before starting in on his alcohol-induced reprieve. Dean lets go of Castiel's hair as Cas reaches down for the bag, dragging the entire thing onto the bed because he doesn't know exactly what's needed out of it, and Dean unfastens his jeans and pushes them down far enough so they won't get in the way. Castiel can't help but feel a little sense of pride as how aroused Dean is for him at the same time he feels a twinge of dread that he won't live up to Dean's expectations. He drops the duffel bag by Dean's head and Dean immediately reaches in the already unzipped bag and pulls out a bottle of what Castiel assumes is lubrication, but he's honestly more interested in the fact that Dean barely even had to _look_ at the bag before he knew where to find it.

“You were planning this?” he asks as he puts the duffel bag back on the floor.

Dean chuckles as rubs the bottle between his hands, attempting to warm the lube up a bit with the friction. “If you mean this night in particular, no. But I have been hoping for this to happen for a while. Just thought I should be prepared for...ya know, _whenever_.”

Castiel can't help but feel like a disappointment. For all the time he's spent schooling himself to show Dean affection, he certainly dropped the ball on the most important part of it.

“I didn't realize-” he begins, but Dean puts his clean hand to Cas' cheek to silence him.

“You're here now,” Dean says, soft grin beautifully matching the affection in his eyes. “That's what matters.”

Castiel smiles back, feeling a little less distant from the action than usual. Dean asks him to scoot a bit closer and he complies, hovering over Dean's abdomen, waiting for his next move and, if he felt like being honest about his feelings, dealing with a growing sense of unease. It was one thing to be a human and experience sex for the first time; one expected to feel pain as well as pleasure. But Castiel had no way of knowing how the experience would be for him, and the increasingly erratic connection he was having with his vessel didn't help either.

Dean's hand on his hip grounds him back in reality and, noticing the hint of concern in the man's eyes, he decides it would be prudent to close the distance between them and give Dean ample space to get to work by kneeling over Dean, pressing as close to him as possible, gently kissing his neck, and if Castiel's ass happened to stay pertly in the air, it was absolutely just because he was that into the moment and definitely not because he just wanted Dean to stop worrying and get it over with already.

Dean exhales slowly at Cas' touch, but it doesn't soothe the feeling that everything isn't entirely okay, but he needs this, and Cas is _insisting_ he's fine, so Dean tilts Cas' chin up to kiss him softly as he slowly settles his lubes fingers against Cas' entrance again. Cas stiffens for just a moment before returning to lazily lapping at Dean's mouth, and Dean takes that as the go ahead to massage the outside of his hole, dick twitching at the soft moan Cas makes in response, emboldening him enough to press a single finger inside.

Cas shudders and breaks their kiss as he exhales shakily, but he's not complaining and it seems like a reasonable reaction, so Dean keeps sinking into the heat of Cas' body, getting up to the second knuckle before crooking his finger and working it around. Cas whimpers into Dean's neck, digs his fingers into his shoulders as Dean swirls the finger around, working him up to accepting a second one. Cas is shivering and panting by the time he's in two fingers deep, and concern is growing in Dean's gut because he's stopped seeming like he's enjoying it, and looks more to be enduring it now.

Castiel knows it's going to happen, knows that Dean is going to ask _again_ if this is okay, and Cas is going to tell him _again_ that it's fine, but he's not sure it is. He's lost all control of his vessel and is experiencing an extreme sensory overload, every touch sparking off a thousand blinding flares in his mind like mortars bombarding a battlefield...but it's not bad. It's overwhelming and disorienting, and he's certain he's going to crack under the weight of it, but he finds himself pressing back against Dean's fingers and groaning deep in his throat, thick enough to sound almost like a growl, and he knows Dean's going to have welts in the morning from how deeply Castiel is digging his fingernails into his skin, but that's something else he doesn't have control of at the moment. Then Dean is squeezing a third finger in, and something in Castiel's mind snaps like a rubber band, and he buries his face against Dean's chest to muffle the wail that burst from this throat.

Dean is shocked out of concentration by Cas' plaintive cry, and he almost instinctively pulls all three fingers out before he realizes that would probably make things more painful.

“Shit, Cas,” he says, rubbing his free hand along Cas' back in an attempt to soothe him, “are you okay?”

Cas immediately looms up, eyes almost glowing and the shadow of slowly spreading wings suddenly plastered against the wall behind him, and wraps a hand around Dean's neck before rasping, “Keep going”, and Dean's brain finally clicks over into realizing that he's knuckle deep inside a fucking _celestial being_ , and if he keeps harassing him with questions about how he's feeling about this situation, Dean's probably going to get himself killed.

Castiel doesn't want to hurt Dean, but if something doesn't happen, and fast, he's going to collapse under the weight of reality and split apart at the damn seams. But despite Dean picking up the pace, Cas can tell he's still hesitating, and he groans in frustration as he reaches back and pulls Dean's hand away, hissing as the sudden movement stretches him more, and positions himself over Dean's cock.

Dean can hardly believe this is real life, let alone his life. Cas has lost his damn mind and it is the sexiest fucking thing he's ever seen as he watches Cas lower himself onto Dean's dick. Dean throws his head back against the mattress and groans at how tight and searing hot Cas feels wrapped around him and has a moment to wonder if it's his angelic essence making him so damn hot before Cas has him in to the root and his mind is wiped clean of any coherent thought.

For all his sudden bravado, Castiel finds himself unable to make the next move as he sits there just _feeling_ Dean inside him. It's foreign and uncomfortable but so damn right at the same time, and settles his mind down into a comfortable haze that would lull him to sleep if Dean's sudden grasp on his ass cheeks didn't suddenly bring him back into focus. He doesn't know what happened, but it's like seeing everything in a new light, and at the center of it all is Dean, softly flushed and smiling, and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Dean gives his ass a good squeeze and asks, “You ready?”

“Yes,” Castiel responds, and Dean thrusts upwards, and everything goes white.

Cas' jaw hangs completely slack and his eyes damn near glaze over, and Dean can't help but be worried seeing as how he's never gotten that kind of reaction out of a lover before, but he knows he shouldn't ask if anything is wrong, gives another tentative thrust, and suddenly Cas has burst back into life, inhaling as deeply and audibly as a man who had been drowning, his eyes wide and searching, finally landing on Dean, and Dean almost chuckles at the look of “why didn't you _tell me_ it would be this amazing” showing so clearly on Cas' face. Dean gets a steadying grip on Cas' hips as he sets a steady rhythm of gentle thrusting, enjoying Cas' increasingly urgent whines and whimpers more than he's enjoying the slick heat swallowing his dick.

Castiel doesn't know exactly what happened, but he feels _everything_. It's like being connected to Dean in a physical sense was what he has needed this whole time to feel connected to him in a emotional and spiritual sense, and it's amazing. The look of joy on Dean's face—the one that Castiel has put there himself—the feeling of Dean buried deep within him, making Castiel _his_ in every sense...it's overwhelming in the best possible way, and he grinds his hips down against Dean's, driving the pleasure even deeper into his body. Dean's accompanying groan spurrs him on, and Castiel thrusts back against him again and again, setting a faster, rougher pace than Dean had dared to.

Now Dean is the one quickly melting into a groaning mess, completely falling prey to how goddamn sexy Cas is when he's aggressive and hoping and fucking _praying_ they'll be doing this again soon because he needs this, and he needs this often. Cas chuckles and Dean grabs hold of Cas' tie and pulls him to his lips.

Castiel smiles against Dean's lips before murmuring “message received”, relishing the whimper Dean doesn't manage to stifle as Cas licks his lips.

Dean can't stand this. It's too much, it's entirely too fucking hot, and if he doesn't come soon he's going to explode in a very unpleasant manner. He does the only thing his sex-addled brain can think to do and wraps a hand around Cas' dick, pumping it in rhythm with Cas' hips grinding against his own, and the moan Cas gives in response is so deep that Dean wonders how he didn't choke himself on it for all of half a second before Cas tightens around him and he's crying out, sparks bursting white hot behind his eyes as he comes into Cas.

Castiel watches with rapt interest as Dean unravels beneath him, chanting a garbled litany of “fuck” and “Cas” between moans, and it's gorgeous and seductive and suddenly his entire being feels like it's being forced through a bottleneck as he thrusts raggedly into Dean's hand and buries his face in Dean's shoulder to muffle his wailing as his cum splatters against Dean's hand and chest.

Castiel collapses onto Dean, ignoring the stickiness between them, as he pants heavily against Dean's neck, still half-full of Dean's softening cock and feeling Dean's cum slowly dripping down his balls. Dean runs his hands over Cas' back and through his hair, and Castiel sighs into the touch, finding it almost as pleasant as everything that had lead up to this moment.

Dean plants a soft kiss on Cas' forehead, his eyelids fluttering open as a sleepy grin spreads across his adorably flushed face.

“We could have been doing this months ago,” Castiel breathes, throat feeling a little too hoarse to manage much more volume than that.

After how amazing he just felt, Dean wishes like mad they had been, but responds with a simple “You didn't seem ready.”

Castiel lifts his head up far enough to look Dean square in the eyes and says, “Maybe next time you won't make the mistake of thinking I'm so easily shattered.”

Dean struggles to think of a response for just a second before noticing the weariness in Cas' eyes and pulls him into a warm hug. He whispers “go to sleep” into Cas' hair, and Cas does. The mess between them would be uncomfortable tomorrow, and Cas might give Dean shit for thinking he's too damn fragile to get up and take a shower, but Dean would rather watch the peace on Cas' face as he settles into sleep than shatter this moment to stoke his pride.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't generally write Supernatural fic, but I do write other fic, and that can be found on [my Tumblr](http://daftalchemist.tumblr.com/)


End file.
